Where Do I Belong?
by AuthoressSama
Summary: One day when America comes home from a World Meeting, he hears a stranger in his house. When he sneaks a peak into his kitchen, he finds a stranger at the blender. Said stranger gapes and awes at the blender's ability to slice and dice various foods.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia.**

**Summary: **One day when America comes home from a World Meeting, he hears a stranger in his house. When he sneaks a peak into his kitchen, he finds a trail of various foods leading up to his blender. The stranger at the blender gapes and awes at the blender and its ability to cut and dice all sorts of food.

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><p>Where Do I Belong?<p>

Chapter 1 – Time Travel

Another grueling day had passed and America was finally done with another World Meeting. He trudged home from the convenience store he had stopped at and ran a hand through his gold hair. His blue eyes were half lidded from fatigue. Maybe he should not have stayed up so late by playing that video game that Japan had lent him the night before he had to present his idea to the rest of the world.

America smiled at his doorman and did the secret handshake he had taught the twenty-six year old man a few years ago. He stopped at the elevator and pressed the up button. The nation's head wavered slightly as his eyes closed all the way. The grocery bag he carried felt heavier and heavier and all America wanted to do was fall right to the floor, fast asleep.

The elevator doors opened with a ding, shocking America back into consciousness. He stepped aside to allow a mother and her toddler walk out of the elevator. After the elevator was empty, America walked inside it, wobbling all the way. His eyes narrowed in frustration when they refused to focus on the buttons' labels. He swung his arm up to the top of the control panel and his hand landed just above the penthouse button. America's hand slid down the panel until his index finger lined up with the penthouse button. Lazily, he clicked the button and allowed the elevator to take him up to the top floor. Once the elevator stopped and opened, America stumbled over the carpet as he was trying to get out of the machine.

America trudged to his door and fumbled with his keys. He inserted the key into the door's lock and slowly unlocked his door. He pushed it open. A confused expression made its way onto America's face when he heard someone fawn over his electric blender. He leaned on the door's back to close it and he relocked the door.

America let the keys fall onto the small table next to the door and he walked to the doorway that led to the kitchen. He peaked into the kitchen and smacked his hand over his mouth to silence a gasp. His left eyelid twitched and he was now fully awake.

In the kitchen stood a crimson clad figure. A giant plume of fluffy feathers burst forth from the center of the pirate hat the man wore and tumbled down past his shoulders. He was completely unguarded as he dropped bananas, butter, jam, and cereal into the blender. The man kept remarking on how amazing and modern the appliance was. He kept rambling on about how it must have worked.

Luckily, America was facing the man's back. As quietly as he could, he set the bag on the counter beside the doorway and snuck up behind the man. He smirked lightly at where the back of the stranger's knees would be. In one swift movement, America kicked the back of one of the man's legs and held out his arms to catch him.

The man yelped as he fell backwards into America's arms. He glared up at America. His hat had fallen down between the two. The man's piercing green eyes and furrowed brows were enough to tell America who the stranger was.

"England, what the Hell are you doing in my house, messin' with my blender?" He asked in his blunt, American accented voice.

The man's eyes widened a bit before he struggled to stand. He faced America and dusted himself off. "My name is Captain Arthur Kirkland and you will refer to me as such, Boy." He picked up his pirate hat and placed it on his head. The captain yanked his gun from his holster and aimed it between America's eyes. America's eyes grew. Before Captain Kirkland could pull his trigger, America grabbed the gun's tip with both of his hands and squeezed it shut.

The captain let out a sound of surprise, "Ah!" He pulled his gun back to check with the eye that was not covered by a patch. "My God," He felt the tip of the gun. Captain Kirkland glared at America, "What are you?"

"England," America groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'm too tired for your games. I'm even starting to act like you." He shuddered at the thought and looked into Captain Kirkland's shocked eyes. "Do you really not know who I am?" Once the pirate shook his head negatively, America sighed and yanked the pirate hat from Captain Kirkland's head.

England moved to snatch the hat back, "Oi! Get your filthy mits off of my hat!"

America shrugged and let the hat fall onto his head, "Little different reaction from what I had hoped, but whatevs. Alright, _who_ do you know that loves to take your hat and wear it?" He kept his blue eyes wide so the pirate captain would remember him when he was a child. Captain Kirkland kept his scowl, causing America to groan yet again. He would have to say something from the past to refresh the pirate captain's memory, "You are not making this easy. Fine." He glanced around, attempting to think of some sort of thing from the past he would have said. America's eyes brightened when he thought of something, but it made him feel positively ill to say it. He took in a deep breath and then relaxed before saying it, "Engwand, don't leave me in this big mansion all by myself. You don't have to go back to Europe!"

Captain Kirkland's scowl was wiped clean off his face when he recognized America, "A-America?" He smiled in complete relief and proceeded to hug America, "I thought someone had kidnapped you or - or worse!"

"I didn't get kidnapped or anything," America pushed against the pirate's shoulders, "I just became independent!"

England looked up into America's eyes. His emerald eyes were blank. He then laughed, "Yes, yes, it is always nice to joke after a long journey, is it not?"

"I wasn't joking," America succeeded in detaching Captain Kirkland from his body, "I became independent in 1776. France, Spain, and Prussia helped me out and we were able to beat you. God, you were relentless. You even got Canada to fight against us." America turned to the counter where he had placed his ice cream and began to take it out of the plastic bag.

"I won't allow it," England's tone was serious.

America laughed a bit, "Yeah, you said that then, too."

"No," England's tone remained. He dug his fingers into America's shoulder and forcefully turned America to face him. His cold, green eyes bore into America's, "I will not allow you to be an independent country from me." He released his former colony, "From now on, you're my colony again and there's nothing you can do about it. Where's my future self? Surely, he cares whether or not his America is a nation."

America's blue eyes struggled to stay open. That side of England seemed to be missing something; something like a red coat and a musket. He shouted in retaliation, "I - you can't do that! No! I never want to be a colony again! You can't make me!"

"Stop being a child," Captain Kirkland walked past America and pulled the ice cream fully out of the plastic bag. "What is this," He paused as he looked for a name on the container, "ice cream?"

America breathed in strangled breaths and covered his mouth. Go back to being a colony? No, never! He shook his head and clamped his eyes closed. The nation's shoulders trembled at the thought of having to go through another Revolutionary War; of having to show England how much he wanted to get away from him again.

"Oi," Captain Kirkland gripped the arm of America's leather jacket, "what is the function of ice cream?"

"Y-you eat it," America spoke in a hushed voice, still not believing the recent development.

There was a vehement knocking - or rather banging - on the apartment's front door. America's eyes opened wide as he looked out the doorway that connected the kitchen to the rest of the apartment. "America," The person on the other side of the door shouted in his firm, British accent, "I have to talk to you! These importing taxes are ridiculous! I know you're home!"

"That must be me now," Captain Kirkland set the ice cream container back down on the counter and brushed himself off. He crossed his arms and looked to America, "Don't be rude! Let me into the house."

America shook his head and hurried to the front door. He unlocked it and used all of his force to open it only six inches. "England," America rested his head against the doorframe, "now is really not a good time. Can't 'cha come back in - I dunno - a year or so?"

The modern England scoffed and shoved the door open, "No, we'll talk about these taxes now." He stormed into the apartment.

"England," America slammed the door shut and reached out to his former caretaker, "no! No, don't come in!"

The modern England stopped at the coffee table in the open living room and set his briefcase down on the coffee table, "Oh, belt up! I have to talk to you about this. I won't wait." He stood up straight again and placed his hands on his hips. He paused, "...Are you alright, America? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Ghost of the past, I suppose," Captain Kirkland leaned on the kitchen's doorframe while chewing on a multicolored gummy worm, "These look and taste weird. Is this a good taste in this time period, America?" America nodded slowly. The rest of the gummy worm disappeared behind the pirate captain's lips. "Well, now," He stood up straight and strolled over to his future self, "You must be the England of this modern era. I've noticed that you let America become his own independent nation. What made you make such a stupid mistake like that?"

"I-it... Not... by choice," Arthur kept his breathing under control - or attempted to.

Captain Kirkland grimaced, "You can't be serious. There's no way that I'm this soft spoken now!"

"Belt up," Arthur hissed, a renewed fire set his eyes ablaze, "show some respect for your older self, you brat. As I've said, America became independent against my wishes. I fought with all I had to keep him a colony, but I made too many enemies." His eyes trailed down sadly. It hurt to remember the past. "They all wanted to see me falter and drown. France, Prussia, and Spain," He almost whispered, "They destroyed my empire. It shattered to bits after they helped America become independent."

"God," Captain Kirkland rolled his eyes, "you're not going to cry, are you?" He opened his mouth to say more, but was immediately silenced when Arthur's fist collided into it. The punch was effective enough to knock the pirate captain from his previous standing position. He looked up at his future self incredulously.

Arthur directed an intense glare at the man now lying on the floor. "You're a brat; a child. No wonder America left. You rarely ever visited America - rarely ever gave him any attention. You suffocated him with unfair taxes and regulations. You can say that you loved him, but it was just a selfish love." His hands slowly balled into fists as he continued, "If you truly loved him, you would have let him go. No one should ever restrict America in metaphorical chains. He..." He paused, "His wild personality and exuberant nature can never be tamed or contained."

The next thing the modern England knew, he was on the ground with America on top of him, clinging to him. "England," America whined, "You really do understand!" He nuzzled his face against Arthur's cheek and neck.

Captain Kirkland stood back up and brushed himself off. His usual scowl took place of his slightly shocked expression. "You're both pansies," the captain spat. He ran a hand through his tussled bangs, "I'll have to make sure that you grow up with a little more discipline, America."

America grimaced, "Hell, no. I'd hate to still be your colony."

Arthur sat up and oddly allowed America to cling to his torso. He pinched and pulled on America's cheek, "I thought you just said I really do understand you."

"Pssh," Alfred swatted Arthur's hand away from his cheek, "Yeah, but I don't want to be your colony. I'm surprised I didn't die from your crappy cooking."

Both Englands scoffed in unison. "My cooking is delicious and you used to love it," Captain Kirkland crossed his arms and his scowl darkened. He looked away, "You used to be so cute. What the Hell happened?"

The modern England and America stared at Captain Kirkland for a full minute before America spoke, "Dude, that's so creepy. England says that, too."

"Because it's true," England pushed America off of him and stood, facing his pirate self. "How is he? How is young America?"

The same warm smile that was on Captain Kirkland's face before appeared again as he remembered America as his colony. "He's very excited and affectionate." He hugged his shoulders, "Just last time I visited him, he tried to make me a cake out of some mud and sticks he found."

"That sounds just like him," England hummed. "I wish I had, had brought him to Italy with me so we could have had an artist paint him."

The pirate captain nodded in agreement, "I'll do exactly that when I get him back."

"Whoa, whoa," Alfred stood between the two Englands and held his hands up, "time out. _Where_ am I if I'm not with you?"

Captain Kirkland hissed, "I don't know. I've already beaten Spain and France into telling me they had absolutely no clue as to where you are, so I used my magic to transport me into the future to find you." His glare was back, "I swear, the second I find the twat that took you, they will be begging for a swift death."

"The year is 2012, just FYI," America shrugged and scratched the back of his head.

The pirate Arthur's mouth hung open slightly, "You..." He laughed nervously, "You're joking, aren't you? You like to joke. It isn't 2012. I am not 320 years in the future." His nervous smile disappeared when he saw the serious expressions on America's and his future self's faces. "2012...," He whispered gently and then muttered, "No wonder that cutting machine was so interesting."

A sneaky grin made its way onto America's face, "Blenders were made in the 1930's, you know. There is way cooler stuff now."

England grimaced and turned to open his briefcase, "Speak with proper grammar, you twit."

"Lookie here," Alfred disobeyed and pulled his iPhone out of his pocket. He turned on the device and proceeded to show the pirate captain how it worked.

"It's magic," Captain Kirkland gasped, taking the object into his own hands, "It's amazing!" America scrolled through the music on the phone and played a punk song. The pirate visibly flinched and asked, "What in God's name is this?"

"I Wanna by The All-American Rejects," Alfred laughed to himself, "It sounds good, right?"

The captain scoffed, "Is he saying 'I want to touch you'? Why's he being so personal?"

America grinned and patted Captain Kirkland's back, "It's just a recording. Y'know, you invent this genre in the future. Punk, it's called. Man, you're wild then. David Bowie, The Beatles, Queen? You'll have the music industry sewn up for a time." The modern Arthur smiled to himself, quietly accepting the compliments as the next song played. "This one is My Paper Heart by the same band as the last one."

The pirate captain's eyes widened, "This one sounds different."

"Well, yeah, they don't all sound the same," Alfred searched for another song and then pressed his finger onto the phone's screen to play it. "This one is Through The Fire And Flames. That radical sound is the electric guitar."

Captain Kirkland was ambushed by the harshness of the rock genre. The music surged through his veins as his eyes widened with each chord that was played. He allowed it to carry him and closed his eyes, melting into it. "This is amazing," He spoke gently.

"Since you have to look for me in a time period anyway, lemme show you around 2012," America offered and stopped the song. He held the iPhone and tugged on it.

The past Arthur glared, not wanting to give up the phone. "Uh, uh," He stubbornly shook his head, "this is mine now." He tucked it into his pocket.

"Are you sure it's wise to show my past self around this modern time, America?" England asked, his expression obviously skeptical.

"It's fine, England," Alfred waved and rolled his eyes, "You're such a worrywart. I'm going to show your past self to a music store tomorrow and show him what an electric guitar looks like."

Wonder flickered about in Captain Kirkland's eyes. "Yes," the pirate grinned, "yes, we'll do it!"


End file.
